Weapons.
My heartbeat ratcheted up another notch and I stopped abruptly, stepping to the side so my back was to the wall.
I glanced back to the side I'd come from.
Someone stepped into the opening there. It was the man from under the stairs. He didn't look out of it anymore, his blue eyes clear and sharp under his floppy, dark hair.
I did a quick scan of the space as they started closing in on me. Slowly, like they had all the time in the world. No convenient fire escapes. People in these kinds of places were known for deliberately taking them down to help cut down on break-ins.
Getting to the crowd would be ideal. But there were three men that way. And only one the way I'd come. This was no real choice.
Decision made, I turned to the man from under the stairs and went from a standstill to a sprint between one breath and the next. It wasn't a good idea to give them too much time to think or react.
One of the men shouted behind me but I ignored it, focusing on the guy in front of me. He reached into his old, frayed camo jacket and pulled out a baton as he smiled. I needed to distract him.
Focusing as I ran, I didn't take much time to aim before I launched a knife. He cursed and stepped to the side, the knife hitting the wall behind him harmlessly. But it cleared the way for me, which had been the goal.
I pounded past him and turned left, searching for another way out to the street and the people only yards away. The next turn was maybe half a block away.
The footsteps behind me were gaining.
And too close already.
They were taller which meant they had longer strides.
A door opened in front of me and a teenager stepped out with a smoke in hand, an apron tied around his lean waist. His bored expression dissolved, his eyes widening as he saw me rushing towards him.
"Sorry!" I called out as I pushed past directly into a restaurant kitchen.
"Hey!"
"You're not allowed back here!"
"Watch it!"
I sped past the steaming frying pans and the cooks who yelled at me for invading the crowded kitchen. At the other end of the long and narrow place, I could just make out the street through the small window in the door leading to the kitchen and the larger windows by the dining area. Street-front business property in good, high-traffic areas was expensive, so a lot of them were built long and narrow like this.
I pushed through the door, just as I saw the door out from the busy street darken.
Two of the men from the alley pulled it open.
Shit.
I pulled back into the kitchen and crouched down behind the counter as I heard the door into the kitchen slam open, admitting the other two, I was assuming.
They weren't backing off around people. That wasn't a good sign at all. It meant they wanted me, specifically, and didn't really care who was in the way.
Going out in the crowd might just get other people hurt. I needed help.
I brought my watch up to my mouth, using the cover of the cooks shouting to send a message to Jacob. I wasn't very far from his bakery.
"I need a pickup at the Cast Iron . . . " I rattled off the address.
I duck-walked down this side of the counter as I heard the other two from my initial entrance walking down the straight path I'd just taken.
"Get out of my kitchen!" a portly man shouted as I accidentally bumped into his leg, waving his spatula in the air as he glared down at me.
Uh oh.
I shot up and met one of my attackers’ eyes from only a couple of feet away. He looked as startled as I felt.
I recovered faster, snatching one of the hot, heavy pans by the handle and throwing it at him before I dashed back out the way I'd come in.
He screamed behind me.
I winced.
The pan had been empty but hot.
My watch dinged with an incoming call.
"Hello?" I shouted as I heard the door slam open behind me again.
"I'm close," Jacob said in a calm voice. "Still at that address?"
"Close to it. Running east from the back!"
"Perfect."
Only a few more yards to the next alley--
A motorcycle shot out of it only feet away, the sleek design created to weave in and out of narrow streets. The driver had on jeans, boots, and a thick jacket padded to absorb hits if the rider should fall.
Jacob flipped up the visor of his matte black helmet.
"Get on!" he shouted, his eyes on the men behind me.
I didn't waste any time. Running the last few feet, I threw my leg over the bike and wrapped my arms around his hard waist.
We were shooting away at fifty miles an hour a split second later. That acceleration was-- I think my stomach was still back there.
I turned around, squinting to see the two men coming to a stop as they watched me, the other two just bursting out of the restaurant. They didn't look happy.
I turned back around and tucked my head against Jacob's shoulder, closing my eyes because I didn't have the protection of a helmet to shield them.
That was close.
Really close.
What the hell was going on?
Chapter Five
By the time we sped away from the restaurant, it was already time to pick Omari up. Good thing I set that alarm on my watch.
"Can you take me to the elementary school around the corner from our place?" I yelled as Jacob gunned it down the street, his motorcycle almost completely silent.
There were regulations requiring that some kind of sound emanate from moving vehicles, but Jacob obviously hadn't gotten the memo. Or he didn't care. Sometimes he left the city dome for chunks of time, though it wasn't very frequent. He never told me why, but I was guessing it had something to do with his mercenary past. A silent mode of transportation must have come in handy whenever he was out doing-- whatever he did when he wasn't baking cakes and cookies. It felt too hypocritical to push for answers when I was hiding so much from him myself.
"Got it!" he said, making a sharp turn onto a nearby street, the bike tilting way too close to the pavement below for my liking. My grip on him tightened as I tried not to freak out. We were moving pretty fast. While Jacob was obviously an expert driver, I was not an expert passenger. He took backstreets and alleys, actually getting me to the school faster than I would have expected.
I was early. Though I didn't think showing up on the back of Jacob's motorcycle without a helmet made the best impression on the other parents. Or the guy who'd lectured me about being late before.
"Thanks, Jacob," I said getting off, firming up my shaky legs.
He pulled his helmet off and gave me a look. "We're going to have to talk about exactly what was going on back there," he warned. "What if I hadn't been nearby? What would you have done?"
I nodded. He wasn't wrong. "Sure. Though I don't know if telling you what happened is going to help much."
He basically knew everything already. He put his helmet back on. "I still want to hear it," he said firmly.
"All right," I agreed. "We'll talk."
He flipped his visor back down and slowly eased into traffic. He couldn't go so fast here, where the foot traffic alone was enough to slow everything down to a crawl.
When I turned back around to the school, I caught a few of the moms eyeing Jacob as he pulled away. Huh. I wondered if Jacob would be up for dating a single mother. I tried not to meet any eyes as I walked over to where Omari was going to come out.
"Was that your husband?" one of the younger moms asked as I stopped next to her. She was dressed in a sweatshirt and a pair of slacks, her blond hair in a ponytail.
"No," I said firmly, and left it at that.
Her smiled faltered. She took the hint and turned to another mother on her other side. Probably I should learn to be more sociable for Omari's sake. Another thing to add to my list. I sighed mentally. I probably wasn't going to get any better.
Luckily, Omari was out less than a minu
te later. I waved at him and he waved back, but he didn't look as excited and happy as he had earlier. That wasn't a good sign.
"Did everything go okay?" I asked, worried.
"Yes," he said, with the same note of finality I'd given the blond woman.
Okay then. Taste of my own medicine.
"Ashur's coming tonight." Yes, apparently I wasn't above shamelessly using Ashur to cheer Omari up. It worked. He brightened right up.
"Yay!" he said, thrusting his fists up in the air and practically skipping along the sidewalk. "When is he going to be here? Is he going to eat with us? How long is he going to stay?"
I laughed at the barrage of excited questions. "In a few hours. He'll have dinner with us. And he can only stay until tomorrow morning, unfortunately."
I already felt a pang at the thought of him leaving, and he hadn't even gotten here yet.
"Awww," Omari pouted.
"You better get your homework done so you can spend time with him when he does come," I said.
"I will!" he said, speeding up his walk. "Let's hurry!"
I chuckled, hurrying to keep up with him.
He was a man of his word. When we got back, he ate his snack and then got down to the business of his homework at the counter while I started on dinner. I was keeping the menu simple, but I wanted to have it mostly ready when Ashur got here. And he'd be here soon.
Sure enough, by the time Omari finished his homework and took a shower, there was a knock at the door.
"Ashur!" Omari cried out, running to the door and throwing the locks open.
I felt my heart give a little jump as I followed him more slowly, but nobody would ever make me admit it.
"Hey, Omari," Ashur said as the door opened. "How are you?"
Omari ran out and wrapped his arms around Ashur's waist.
"I started school! And I already did my homework and . . . "
He kept talking as Ashur glanced up to give me a warm look. My heart gave a bigger jump. There was no denying Ashur's appeal. Just under six-and-a-half-feet or so, his muscled body took up most of the doorframe. His face was chiseled, handsome, with a defined jaw, a straight nose, and killer cheekbones. His dark brows highlighted his pale, crystal-clear blue eyes. His dark hair was streaked from the sun and cut a little shorter on the sides and back, but longer on top.
The way he was dressed looked like tasteful money with an edge, his aura of raw masculinity really drew the eye.
He stepped inside with Omari still chattering away. "One second, kiddo," he said, interrupting the stream. "I have to kiss your sister."
"Ewww," Omari said, wrinkling his nose.
Ashur just grinned and stepped closer, shutting the door with his foot as he took me in his arms. "Hey," he said softly, his body warm against the front of mine, his arms secure around me.
"Hey," I responded, feeling like a schoolgirl. Though I didn't know if I was ever really that innocent. I sighed as he leaned in and pressed his mouth against mine, the softness of his lips and the slight abrasiveness of his stubble familiar and missed. He tasted just like I remembered. Not that it had been that long since I saw him. It just felt like it.
"Okay, that's enough!" Omari said, tugging at me impatiently.
I laughed, pulling back from Ashur. He had a rueful expression on his face even as his eyes had that hot look in them. I knew what that look meant. Clearing my throat, I stepped back.
"Hungry? I can have dinner ready in a jiff."
He nodded. "I could eat. Do you need help with anything?"
"No, no. It's almost done. Why don't you keep Omari company? He's been on pins and needles all day waiting for you to get here."
He smile was slow. "And what about you? Any pins and needles?"
I rolled my eyes, blushing as I turned away and walked into the kitchen. He chuckled behind me and I heard him move into the living room, his deep voice blending in with Omari's higher-pitched one. If I hadn't liked him so much already, the way he was with Omari would have won me over. I watched them as I finished up, not able to keep from smiling.
"Dinner's ready!" I called out, having a weird moment where I felt completely like a housewife. My life had certainly taken a turn I hadn't expected and couldn't have anticipated. But I couldn't say I regretted any of it so far.
"Come on, I'm starved," Ashur said, hauling Omari up to his feet as well. "Doesn't it smell good?"
Omari nodded as he sat down at the bar.
"It looks amazing," Ashur said, taking a seat next to him and smiling at me.
I smiled back, setting their plates in front of them. "Eat." I took my food and planted myself in the last stool.
"Oh, this is really good," Ashur said after taking a bite. "Thank you for cooking for us."
"Yes, thank you, Mia!" Omari said, taking Ashur's cue. "It's so good!"
I smiled at them both. "You're welcome."
Dinner was actually pretty good. There had been plenty of times I hadn't come through with good food, so I knew what I was talking about. After we were done, I started to get off my stool, but Ashur urged me to sit down.
"You cooked, let me at least do the dishes," he said, picking up the plates and walking around to the sink. "You can keep me company. And Omari—you're on drying duty."
"Okay!"
Omari ran around and positioned the small step I'd gotten so he could reach the sink. Grabbing the towel, he was ready when Ashur carefully started handing him dishes to dry. He took them just as carefully, his tongue sticking out in concentration as he ran the towel over them, Ashur murmuring encouragement.
My heart melted.
I was a goner. Wonderful. Now I felt at a real disadvantage.
After they finished cleaning up, it was time to get Omari ready for bed.
"Do I have to?" he whined. "I don't want to go to bed. I'm not tired!"
"Yes, you have to," I said. "You have school in the morning. And you'll feel tired once you close your eyes."
Oh my God. I sounded just like my mom. The transformation had begun!
"How about I read your bedtime story to you?" Ashur interrupted. "Some bonding time between the two of us?"
Suddenly, bed didn't sound so horrible to Omari. I rolled my eyes as he skipped into the bedroom. Ashur grinned at me over his shoulder as he followed. Leaving him to it, I took the time to tidy up the living area and grab Omari's clothes out of the dryer to fold. By the time Ashur came back out, I felt pretty proud of myself for being so productive.
"Is he asleep?" I asked, tucking my feet up on the couch.
Ashur nodded, closing the door gently. "Yes, though it was hard for him to close his eyes. He was bouncing off the walls," he chuckled. "I remember having that much energy."
Then his eyes met mine.
The undeniable spark between us ignited.
I watched him as he watched me, deliberately making his way over to the couch.
"And now that I have you alone . . . "
He sat down next to me and picked me up to place me on his lap, straddling him. I felt my excitement rising, but then I glanced over at the closed door.
"It's fine," Ashur murmured, nuzzling the side of my neck. "He's fast asleep."
I thought about protesting. But I only thought about it. I wanted this as much as Ashur did.
His hands slid under my sweater, his palms warm on the small of my back as he kissed his way to my mouth.
"Mmm."
I slid my hands up his hard chest as I sank into the kiss. Hot, and slow, and sexy as hell. But we were both too impatient to go slow. I pulled away from him as he tugged my sweater over my head. Then his hands were undoing my bra and tossing it over the back of the couch. He groaned as he cupped my breasts, his breath hot against my neck as he squeezed, his teeth scraping against me. A shiver went down my back as I slid my hands into his hair.
"You need to be naked," he said hoarsely.
Then I was falling gently onto my back and he was unzipping my jeans. In another moment, my jeans and
underwear were gone and I was completely naked. Ashur stared down at me as he pushed my leg up to hook over the back of the couch, leaving me open and vulnerable. I was panting as I watched him, biting my lip as I saw the outline of his massive erection.
"You're so damn gorgeous," he groaned, sliding his warm hands down the inside of my thighs.
"Take your clothes off," I demanded.
"In a minute," he murmured, lowering his head as he looked up at me. "I just want a taste first."
I swallowed as he came in close and licked a long line right up my center, flicking his tongue against my clitoris at the top.
"Oh!" I jerked a little and he chuckled, his hands coming down to hold my hips in place as he settled in, his tongue exploring, using his thumbs to spread me apart for his mouth. It had been too long. What he was doing felt too good.
"Ashur!" I cried out, pushing my hips up against his mouth.
"Shhh." He sealed his mouth over me. And sucked.
I clenched my mouth shut, trying not to make a sound as I writhed under him, the orgasm rushing through me in a burning wave of sensation. It went on forever, pulsing through my body in waves. I finally collapsed back on the cushions, watching Ashur with half-closed eyes as I tried to catch my breath. He finally raised his head, his mouth wet from what he'd been doing.
"I need to be inside you," he growled as he sat up.
That sounded just about perfect to me. He ripped his shirt off and then got to work on his belt. I sat up, combing my fingers through his chest hair, counting the ridges of his abdomen. Kissing the soft spot under his ear.
Then he was pushing me back down with a snarl, his fly open to reveal his hard cock, but his pants still on.
"It's been too long," he muttered as he curled one of my legs around his waist and pushed the other one wide, off the side of the couch. I braced my foot on the floor.
"Yes," I agreed, sighing as his broad head nudged at my folds. "Come inside. Please."
He moaned, lying down on top of me, his skin hot against me as he tucked his face against the side of mine.
And then pushed forward.
He cursed as I gasped, the fit all the tighter for our separation. But I was so wet, it only took him a few thrusts to sink in all the way. I took in a deep breath, sliding my hands under his loosened slacks and boxers to dig my fingernails into his ass.
Phoenix King Page 4
